Spouse's Cousin and Fiance of Cousin were visiting this week. Cousin and Fiance live and breathe and work in Washington D.C. doing political stuff. Both have worked for senators.
We were gathered in our parlor (you know that fancy room in our house where we sit daintily with crossed ankles, work on our embroidery, and listen to the piano forte). As I lack culture and class and general distinguishment, I was reading a Vanity Fair mag instead of the above mentioned activities. I also lack finesse and knowledge so I look at the pictures in Vanity Far in lieu of reading the articles. It's kind of like playboy for photographers.
Anyway, this magazine is littered with Calvin Klein ads. I turn to Yahoo #1 (who just turned 7) and say, "We should get you some underwear with Calvin Klein written on it."
The four-year-old Yahoo #2 (busy with his transformer) pipes up with "We should get him some Calvin Coolidge underwear!"
I'm pretty sure our high folutin' D.C. comp'nee taught him that.